


Colonel Slumber Party

by orphan_account



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Colonels, M/M, One Night Stand, This colonel doesn’t have a name, and no im not giving him one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 00:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19121353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tintin wakes up as a Colonel. And with another Colonel.





	Colonel Slumber Party

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the album Tintin and the Broken Ear. I’ve chosen Spanish for the Colonel’s language even though google translate says that they’re speaking Portuguese in the comic. Note that Tintin’s age here is unknown, but it’s at least 18.

Tintin wakes up. He is feeling paralyzed, laying on his back with one side of his body hanging off the edge of the bed. He instantly feels the sharp pang of a migraine. He tries his damndest to coordinate his arm to lift and touch his head. It’s no use. He realizes he is having a hangover. He groans. He opens his bleary eyes and looks around. There is an intricate design sculpted into the ceiling, and there is a fancy chandelier hanging off of it. The whole room itself is huge. It all looks quite...royal. He then realizes he isn’t in his room. He groans again. He attempts to piece together what happened last night. He recalls that he came to visit San Theodoros and was sent to prison. He faintly remembers himself tied up, standing in front of a few soldiers pointing their guns at him. He deduces that he was about to be executed. Straining to remember what came after that, he fails. 

He gathers enough strength to turn his head to the side. What he sees is another man’s naked, muscular back. It takes Tintin a moment to register and process this newfound information. Deep down, he doesn’t want to fathom or opine anything from this sight. Unfortunately, it becomes clear to him in a matter of seconds, and it sends a tremor down his spine, completely awakening him. He almost gasps, but suppresses it. His chest suddenly feels tight with anxiousness and discomfort. He looks down to confirm that he, too, is naked. ‘How could I have ever done such a thing?’ he chides himself. The dignified catholic boy that was once a virgin has been deflowered in the most repugnant way possible. 

Tintin can’t comprehend what circumstances would lead from him nearly being executed to getting drunk and sleeping with another man. Were those just the consequences of being so careless? Or adventurous, rather? He feels disdain for himself, looking away from the other man as if to hide himself from him, even though he is not looking. He turns his whole body and curls up toward the side of the bed, bringing the blanket with him. He wants to extricate himself, but he’s worried it’ll awaken his sleeping companion. He doesn’t know what to do. He is so deep in his thoughts that he forgets the passing of time, and after a few minutes, he feels a hand slowly rest on his shoulder. This makes him jolt. He tentatively turns his head and sees a Portuguese man, presumably in his 30s, with rugged facial features and a body of a trained soldier, but displaying a warm smile nonetheless. 

“Buenos días.” [1]

“Um…good morning,” Tintin greets back, but is still trying to remember who this man is. He stares at him to recollect that he is indeed the colonel that was in charge of his execution. He was polite to him notwithstanding, and was only following orders. An impartial yet courteous man, just like him. He’s also the one that offered an “aperitif”, but then again, Tintin accepted his offer and continued drinking despite the “strength” of the drink. Tintin’s gaze softens. 

They both start to speak, but are cut off by each other. The Colonel signals Tintin to speak first, before things get awkward. 

“Where am I?” Tintin asks, as if anyone would be expecting this question from him. 

“I believe you are in the residential building of General Alcazar.”

Tintin nearly forgets to listen to his answer. He finds his Portuguese-laden accent a perfect match for his ethnic masculine appearance. His gentle voice only makes him feel more attracted. A titillating sensation begins to pool up in his lower regions.

“How did I get here?” 

“I don’t know how, but last night I saw you were walking around in a uniform—“

“Uniform?!”

“Well Señor, according to what you were wearing, it seems that General Alcazar has appointed you Colonel—“

“Colonel?!” 

“Ah, please take a look…” The Colonel sits up, looks around, and points to the floor. Tintin sits up hastily to see that he is pointing at what Tintin recognizes as a Colonel uniform, with an insignia and gorget patches and such. “That is also yours,” says the Colonel, pointing to another article of clothing: a rumpled up pair of blue pantaloons with vertical black stripes running along each side. If Tintin was confused before, he is overwhelmingly baffled now. Tintin knows that he was drunk, so he probably wouldn’t have enough wits to disguise himself as a Colonel. He finds it harder to believe that he became a Colonel overnight. 

He clears his throat. “Are you sure that I was the one wearing that?” Tintin queries, knowing deep down the answer.

“My memory, although foggy, suggests that you were indeed wearing that Colonel uniform. I even got to have a closer look when we...you know…” the Colonel scoots closer, showing a sultry simper. 

Tintin moves back. The close contact makes Tintin shiver, and he sees visions of last night; snippets of touching and grabbing, bodies tangled in an orgiastic frenzy. He lowers his head to cover his face, whose cheeks have turned a shade of pink. 

The Colonel backs off. “My apologies.” He gives a patient smile. 

“No, no, it’s absolutely fine.” His smile makes him easier on the eyes. Tintin is looking at him with a more level head now, and the longer he studies him, the more attracted he feels to him. His defined jawline, his piercing brown eyes and heavy brows are truly a sight to drink in. A moment of silence takes over. Tintin catches himself in a trance, so he quickly finds something important to talk about. “So, uh, do you know how I became a Colonel?” 

“I haven’t a clue. Last night was a blur, but I do remember vivid details of you in the uniform, especially in the process of, er, taking it off…” he slows to a stop when he sees Tintin cover his face with the blanket. “Was that your first time, sir?”

Tintin lowers the blanket to speak. “Please, call me Tintin. And yes, it was my first time.”

“Ah.” Tintin sees a look of guilt. 

“I’m of legal age…in Belgium, at least.” [2] The Colonel still seems conflicted. Tintin immediately changes the subject. “And I think I enjoyed it, by the way.” The Colonel’s expression relaxes a little. 

“You think?” The older man asks quizzically, albeit with a playful smirk.

“I’m quite positive.” Tintin chuckles.

Moments of silence pass between them. Tintin cannot stop staring. Neither can the Colonel. 

“You and I should probably be going by now. We have many responsibilities as Colonels,” says the man matter-of-factly, in spite of his hungry yet serene gaze on Tintin. 

“Mhm,” replies Tintin quietly. He is so absorbed in the Colonel’s presence that he cannot find himself to care about his duties as a Colonel himself, or debate about whether or not he actually became a Colonel. He’ll deal with it later. 

The Spanish man tentatively lifts a hand to caress Tintin’s cheek. Tintin lets go of the blanket. It falls to reveal his smooth, milky body. The Colonel eyes Tintin up and down. A small voice at the back of Tintin’s mind is screaming to halt these advances before it goes any further. However, heavy temptation snuffs out the remains of his catholic conscience once the Colonel starts to lean closer. 

“Would you like to impart on a more...memorable experience?” asks the Colonel, even though he already knows what they both want. Their libidos are blaring for satisfaction, and this is a rhetorical question at this point. The Colonel is so entranced that he doesn’t realize his face is gradually moving closer to Tintin’s until their noses touch. They can feel each other’s breathing get heavy. 

“Yes,” Tintin answers simply.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope yall enjoyed that because it was my first fic. This is also my first time on AO3 so I might have some mistakes with tagging or formatting or something. Now I have absolutely ZERO experience with writing sex, so I’ve decided to end it there but also because I don’t want to ruin that cliffhanger. :P
> 
> Footnotes  
> 1\. “Good morning” (Spanish)  
> 2\. Okay so at the time, the age of consent was 16 in Belgium, but Tintin’s still 18 at least. The Colonel himself doesn’t know Tintin’s age btw.


End file.
